Native Language
by noiproksa
Summary: Cas has lost his home a long time ago. Sam and Dean try to show him that he has a home right there with them. He belongs to their weird little family, after all.


**Native Language**

It was a quiet night in the bunker. Dean, Sam and Cas were sitting in the library, trying to find a solution to a particularly nasty problem concerning an as-of-yet-unidentified monster. Well, at least Dean assumed Cas and Sam were trying to find a solution – Dean himself was successfully _pretending_ to do research, playing solitaire on his laptop instead, while Cas and Sam were hitting the books. It was well past midnight and no one had spoken in a while, when, out of nowhere, Cas said, "You should probably hit the straw."

Sam looked up from his book mid-yawn, his face falling into a frown.

"We should do what now?" Dean asked, barely glancing up from his game of Solitaire. He was already accustomed to Cas saying weird things.

"Hit the straw," Cas repeated a bit louder. "You know. Go to bed. Sleep. As you humans do. I can continue the research on my own."

"Hay," Sammy corrected with a grin.

"Hey," Cas answered automatically and then squinted at him. "I thought you only use that for 'hello,' not for 'goodbye,'" he added as an afterthought, which made both Dean and Sam burst into laughter.

That was such a Cas thing to say. Usually Dean could keep his amusement to a meaningful look shared with Sammy. But it was the middle of the night and he'd had three beers already, so everything seemed so much funnier.

"No, not 'hey,'" Sam managed to get out in-between fits of laughter. "It's 'hit the hay.'"

Every time Dean thought he had his laughter under control, he caught Sammy's eye and had to start laughing again. Cas didn't seem amused, though. He looked about ready to smite them both, which only made Dean laugh harder. He couldn't remember the last time he'd actually laughed until he was in _tears_.

"You should remember that I always have to use _your_ native language," Cas scolded. "And I get a great deal of idioms right. You, on the other hand, wouldn't know Enochian idioms if they bit you in the…" Cas stopped there for a second and a wrinkle appeared on his forehead.

"Ass," Dean supplied helpfully.

This was obviously the wrong thing to say because Cas' angry expression zeroed in on him now. Dean held his hands up in a placating manner, but before he could say anything, Cas continued, "I have learned a lot of strange English phrases. Did you know, for example, that if you say 'See you later, alligator,' you do not actually have to talk to an alligator?" Dean thought he probably shouldn't answer that question and Cas kept on talking anyway, "You don't even know how to say 'hello' in Enochian. So I suggest you don't tease me about using one wrong word once every _hundred_ _thousand_ words."

It seemed like they'd struck a nerve. Dean had never really thought about the fact that English wasn't Cas' mother tongue.

"Yeah, you're right. We're sorry, Cas," Sam said contritely.

Cas seemed to deflate at that. "No, that's… alright. I just… haven't spoken to other angels in a while. – So, what I was trying to say was, you should hit the _hay_. You're both tired."

"Sounds like a plan," Dean said, closing his laptop and getting up, stretching the stiffness from his legs after sitting for so long. "You staying?" he asked Cas.

"Yes, I do believe I can be helpful here," Cas said, gesturing to the books that were spread out over the table.

"Not what we meant," Sam mumbled and finally closed the book he'd been studying for the last couple hours. "You should rest, too. Your room's ready. Dean got a bunch of extra pillows."

Dean shot a dark look at Sam over Cas' head. Okay, so he had bought some more comfortable pillows after Cas had made an offhand comment about the one subpar pillow in his room. So what? No need to tattletale on him.

"I do not…" Cas began, but Dean interrupted him.

"We know. Sam didn't say 'sleep,' he said 'rest.' Come on." He nodded his head in the direction of their rooms and couldn't suppress a smile when he saw Cas' resolve to continue their research crumble.

"Well, I assume I have no choice but to see for myself if the pillows really are more comfortable," Cas said tentatively as he got up himself. Okay, point for Sam. Dean shot him a quick look that was supposed to convey, _Good thinking on bringing that up_.

"That's the spirit," Dean said, clapping Cas on the shoulder and steering him out of the library.

"I might even punch the hay for a few hours," Cas said, his tone giving nothing away, but Dean thought he saw the corner of the angel's mouth twitch slightly.

Dean faltered in his step. "Did he just make a joke?" he asked, looking back over his shoulder at Sam.

"I think he did," Sam answered, grinning at Cas, who ducked his head to hide a smile.

* * *

It was a few weeks later and Dean had already forgotten all about their midnight talk when he walked into Sam's room and found him sitting on his bed and mouthing unintelligible words.

"Hey. Watcha doin'?"

"Reading." Sam nodded at a big worn book in front of him and turned the page.

"You up for a quick salt 'n' burn?" Dean asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet. It had been a slow couple of weeks and he was itching to go out and gank some sons of bitches or do _something_. It was a testament to the sorry state of their lives that nowadays he got bored when the world wasn't in imminent danger.

"Not really," Sam mumbled distractedly, still concentrating on his book. "I'm busy. Go ask Cas if you're bored."

"Already did. Wasn't in the best mood. Something about not being able to fly anymore and his wings not healing the way he had hoped... That's one cranky angel, let me tell you. You do not want to disturb his pity party."

Sam glanced up at that. "Funny you should mention that," he said and scraped a hand through his hair while his eyes flitted back to the book.

When he didn't continue, Dean raised his eyebrows, trying to catch Sam's eyes.

Finally, Sam looked up again and said, "So, thing is, I was thinking about the whole Enochian thing and how Cas doesn't really have contact to other angels anymore… And then I found this book…"

Dean took a step closer and craned his neck to see what was written on the page. All he found were some symbols he couldn't make heads or tails of. "Is that…"

"Enochian," Sam confirmed. "Impossible to read, of course, but see, here…" Sam pointed to some nonsense words at the bottom of the page. "The book translates it into characters we can read and there's even a phonetic transcription…"

"Nerd," Dean interjected.

"Anyway," Sam said, ignoring him, "I'm pretty sure 'Fa-me Ro-da' means 'hello' in Enochian." A proud grin spread across his face.

"Wow, that's… One word." Halfway through his false praise Dean couldn't hold back the laughter anymore. "You're practically fluent already!"

"Shut up, jerk," Sam said and waited patiently for Dean to stop laughing before he continued. "I really think this book can help me learn a few useful phrases. And just imagine the look on Cas' face when I can, like, ask him to pass the butter in Enochian."

Dean frowned. "Do you think there even is a word for 'butter' in Enochian? I mean, why would angels need a word for 'butter'?"

"I don't know." Sam shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe to say 'Look at those humans eating bread with butter.' – It was just an example anyway."

"Well, have fun nerding out." Dean turned towards the door and threw over his shoulder as he left, "I'm gonna take the cranky angel on a hunt. Try to make him perk up a bit. We'll be back sometime tonight."

* * *

The hunt _had_ lifted Cas' spirits some and, of course, Dean was in a better mood when they came back, too. He didn't feel as high-strung anymore. Who knew – maybe he could make a decent hunter out of Cas yet. They did make a great team in any case.

"No, all I'm saying is, next time, make _sure_ it's a ghost before trying to smite a little old lady," Dean said as they entered the bunker. There might still be some advice left for Dean to give Cas before he got him to the 'decent hunter' stage.

"I would not have hurt her," Cas deadpanned, trailing after Dean. "I could feel that she was no threat once I was close enough."

"Yeah, also: Humans think it's weird if someone walks up to them and lays a hand on their head for no apparent reason." Dean couldn't believe he actually had to explain that.

"Oh," Cas stopped dead in his tracks for a moment, apparently considering this. "Is that why she hit me with the cane?" he then asked.

Dean huffed a laugh, shaking his head slightly. "Yeah, I think that's a pretty safe bet."

They had reached the kitchen and Dean was busy rummaging through the fridge when Sam wandered in, the same old book from earlier held in his arms. Before Dean could make fun of him for carrying it around everywhere he went, Sam spotted them and said, "Oh, hey, you're back. How'd it go?" He put the book on the table and leaned forward slightly, not-so-subtly trying to conceal the title from Cas. Cas, never one for subtleties, even if they were in-your-face, didn't even spare the book a cursory glance.

"Cas nearly smote an 80-year-old woman," Dean answered, holding out a bottle of beer to both Cas and Sam. Sam shook his head, but Cas was too slow to refuse and Dean just put the bottle down in front of him, before he opened the beer Sam had declined and took a swig.

"She was very old," Cas explained. "I thought she was the ghost. – What was she doing at a graveyard?"

"Oh, I don't know. Visiting the grave of a loved one?" Dean suggested.

When Cas saw Sam's stunned expression, he reassured him, "Don't worry, Sam. We got the real ghost and no living human was harmed in the process."

"Oh, well, that's… great." After a moment, Sam cleared his throat. "So, Cas…" He trailed off, his hand stroking absently over the book. Then he took a deep breath and said in a rush, "Ela-sa biab ore-sarb zod-gar-rah?"

Cas' eyes turned cold and hard in an instant. "Ela-sa ada-gita ge ascha. Ol zir a up-ah de Elo," he growled back, his voice even lower than usual. With that he turned around and practically stormed out of the kitchen.

A few seconds ticked by in absolute silence. Dean had his beer bottle halfway raised, but he lowered it again and looked at Sam who stood there wide-eyed, staring at the door Cas had disappeared through.

Dean blinked and put his bottle next to Cas' still unopened one on the table. "Dude, I worked really hard to get him out of his funk today," he said. "What did you say to him?"

"I…" Sam finally looked away from the door and back to Dean, confusion written clearly all over his face. "I asked him how his day was."

"Wow. Angels do not appreciate small talk, huh?"

"Apparently not," Sam mumbled, a thoughtful frown on his face.

"Well, what did _he_ say?" Dean asked and picked up his bottle again. No point in letting a cold beer go to waste.

"Dean. I've had _one_ _day_ to study the book. I have no idea what he said. – Maybe I got a word wrong or something…?" He opened the book and flipped through the pages, but he didn't get very far before Cas returned.

"It just occurred to me," he began formally, addressing Sam, "that you were not speaking English before."

Dean was about to crack a joke about how English and Enochian totally sounded the same and how Dean got them confused all the time, too, but Cas was already continuing, "It further occurred to me that maybe you did not really mean what you said."

"What _did_ he say?" Dean asked, leaning forward slightly.

"He said that…" A wrinkle appeared on Cas' forehead and he shook his head. "Actually there is no adequate human insult to compare it with. It was very blasphemous."

"Blasphemous?" Sam repeated, his eyes widening, while Dean almost sprayed beer all over the book when he snorted out a laugh.

He had to cough a couple times before he could speak again. "Way to go, Sammy. Can you teach me?" When Cas looked at him through narrowed eyes, he quickly said, "Kidding, just kidding. Do I look like I'm interested in Enochian four-letter words?" He totally was, but he sure as hell wasn't going to admit that when Cas was looking at him like that. He turned towards Sam and mouthed, 'Tell me later' at him.

Sam just shook his head, a blank look on his face, and mouthed back, 'What?'

Cas remained oblivious to their silent exchange. "That word has considerably more than four letters. Sixteen, to be exact."

Sam looked back at the book and turned the page. "But 'Enochian – An angelic language' says that I just asked you about your day. See?" He turned the book so that Cas could read the sentence he pointed out.

Cas looked at the book with a tilted head. "I see. This 'z' right here is silent. And this word… Actually doesn't make any sense at all. Who wrote this, a human? This is completely inaccurate. The only word they got right is the one that means 'you.'"

"It looked legit," Sam mumbled, lowering his head.

Since Dean didn't like seeing Sammy all bummed out, he tried to lighten the mood with a question. "Hey Cas, is there an Enochian word for 'butter'?"

"Yes," Cas answered promptly. "Several, actually. Depending on how buttery it is."

"Huh," Dean said, while Sam grinned at him. _See?_

Cas turned to Sam. "If you are truly interested in learning Enochian, I could teach you," he offered.

"Really?" Sam snapped his head up to look at Cas, his eyes sparkling with barely contained glee. "Yeah, that'd be great. – So, how do you say 'hello' in Enochian?"

Dean shook his head, chuckling to himself. _Nerds_.

Maybe it had been a slow couple weeks – they hadn't averted any apocalypses in a while or otherwise saved the world, but Team Free Will was still together and going strong, and there was even one less ghost terrorizing their country.

"Na-un chko-za." Sam's voice brought him out of his thoughts.

Cas shook his head. "No, 'Na-un chko-za,'" he repeated more slowly, though to Dean it sounded exactly the same.

Sam repeated the words again, this time more carefully, and Cas made a strange noise that sounded like a laugh that turned into a cough. "Now you just told me to feed the clouds."

Dean couldn't suppress a smile as he looked from Sam, who had a concentrated frown on his face, to Cas, who patiently waited for Sam to get the pronunciation right. The corners of his lips were twitching ever so slightly, which made Dean suspect that Sam still hadn't gotten it right.

Dean took another gulp of his beer. Yeah, those were his two geeky brothers right there. They really had a weird little family. He felt his smile get wider. But it was _theirs_ and he wouldn't trade it for the world.

"What's up with you?" Sam asked, looking at him strangely, and Dean realized that he had to look ridiculous with the huge grin on his face. But for the life of him he couldn't get rid of it.

"Nothing," he answered, still smiling. "Just thinking about what kind of geeks you are." Which was, after all, half the truth.

* * *

Notes: Any kind of feedback is always greatly appreciated! I love fluff between Dean&Cas and Dean&Cas&Sam. Cas is my favorite character and I'm also open to prompts that focus on their deep platonic bond. (I hope we won't have to wait too long until they give us some Dean in season 14... I'm all excited for 14x01, but I know that all we're gonna see is Michael, not Dean...)


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